


what never happens

by wrenrouge



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Growing Up Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 21:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19159573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrenrouge/pseuds/wrenrouge
Summary: Kuroo loves Kenma. Somewhere in his heart a tree sprouts where the forbidden fruit grows. He finds he has no choice but to climb and savor the fruit as he takes a bite. They fall in love, the minutes ticking by unaware that their fragile reality is only a dream to a coward.





	what never happens

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've been mulling around this idea for a while, I hope you all like it!!!

This will never happen:

 

Kenma is fourteen and Kuroo, one year older, is all awkward limbs and a mouth full of braces. They're sitting on the concrete steps by the bridge, a volleyball between them, the weather is cold against their heated skin and the sky is an expanse of stars in front of them and Kuroo feels so small in the grand scheme of things. Kenma's hand lies to his side as he gazes at the stars above him. Kuroo can't help but stare at that hand, wanting to touch but unsure how.

Kuroo's releases a breath he's holding, his heartbeat in his mouth because Kuroo unapologetically loves the curve of Kenma's frame as it hunches over, he loves the straight black hair that falls like sheets around his head, and he loves the gold of his eyes and has loved them since as long as he could remember.

Somewhere in his heart a tree sprouts where the forbidden fruit grows. He finds he has no choice but to climb and savor the fruit as he takes a bite.

He breathes slow as his heartbeat rises, taking the chance in front of him because he wants and has wanted and that trumps his cowardice tenfold. He inches his own hand quietly, slowly, unable to stop himself until it settles on top of Kenma's.

Kenma stares at the hand on top of his before looking up at the sky once more, pointing out a constellation as Kuroo's hand sweats like rain. Kuroo takes this as a victory. Tomorrow will be a new day where they will be separated by the school year, but here and now they're connected and that's all that matters.

As they leave the bridge to head home, a blush dusting both their cheeks, Kuroo remembers the warmth of Kenma's hand underneath his and wishes for that heat once more.

 

 

This will never happen:

 

Kenma is fifteen, and Kuroo, one year older, has grown into himself since the last year. They sit in Kenma's room playing games, which game? That does not matter as they press the buttons on the control like a song long remembered.

A GAME OVER sign flashes on the screen as Kenma's character gets defeated and Kenma sighs as he puts his game down. Kuroo's character has long been beaten, not having the finesse that Kenma's careful fingers hold. "Do you want to play something else?" Kenma finally asks, tired and bored of losing for the upteenth time.

Kuroo looks up at his friend, studies him as he has studied him many times before and says, "Let's just go to sleep."

At night, as Kuroo sleeps on his futon, Kenma wakes and curls up next to him. "I had a nightmare," is his reasoning. Kuroo is flames personified as Kenma cocoons himself under his blanket, pressing himself against Kuroo.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kuroo offers but Kenma's eyes are already closed, long lashes brushing against the pillow they now share.

Kuroo stays stiff as his lanky form allows before he turns to his side to stare at the boy he's learned to call a friend. Kenma's breath mingles with his own and that gives Kuroo the bravery to allow his arm to rest on top of Kenma's sleeping form.

Kenma only curls in closer, and Kuroo sleeps knowing tomorrow they won't talk about it.

 

 

 

This will never happen:

 

Kenma is seventeen and Kuroo, one year older, has become a leader in his own right. As Nekoma's captain he leads the rest of the team to nationals, only to lose to their rival, Karasuno. This is okay until they're back by the bridge with the pretence that they need to level up.

Tears stream down their cheeks as they hit the ball with their red tinted arms until they lay there on the floor unable to hit another one. "I'm sorry," Kenma says and Kuroo turns to him and lets him know with his eyes that he doesn't believe Kenma's at fault for anything.

"These things happen," he finally settles on. Kenma just stands up and holds his hand out for Kuroo to take. The warmth of his palm is like electricity to Kuroo as he takes the offered hand and he can't help but revel in it.

"Thank you, for being there for me all these years." Kenma says with sincerity and Kuroo is momentarily stunned. He watches as the hand he's holding disappears and is replaced with a hug. Kenma is hugging him and he short-circuits for a second before he reacts.

He holds Kenma like if he was a lifeline, cries into his shoulder for the first time since they came back from nationals. Kenma's watery voice soothes him, giving him hope that this isn't the end for them. End of what? He doesn't know.

"Thank you," he says in Kenma's ear, not allowing himself to elaborate, and Kenma only hugs him harder.

He thinks he's in love with Kenma, and that thought crushes him and rejuvenates him all the same.

 

 

 

This will never happen:

 

Kenma is twenty, and Kuroo, one year older, is like the alcohol running through his veins. They're in their apartment, surrounded by the aftermath of Kuroo's birthday party. They are both drunk as they settle down for the night, not wanting to clean up just yet. The television is on, playing a shitty show they both don't bother to watch.

"Did you like your party?" Kenma hiccups.

"Yeah, I liked it." Kuroo says as he looks at Kenma.

Kenma giggles into the sleeve of the oversized sweater he's wearing, one from the collection of things he's stolen from Kuroo, who doesn't mind it as much as he says he does. "I think I drank too much."

Kuroo grins as he watches Kenma sway in his seat on the couch, "Yeah, you probably did." He's not faring well either.

"Did you get what you wanted?" Kenma asks and Kuroo recollects all the presents he got including Kenma's gift, an album of pictures from their past. He promised to cherish it for the rest of his living days and Kenma only looked at him with mirth in his eyes.

"Yeah, I got what I wanted." he says to Kenma, who has gotten closer to Kuroo on the couch.

"Are you sure?" Kenma pries, and Kuroo is sure it's the alcohol talking as Kenma continues to get closer still. Kenma's golden eyes twinkle with something unknown and leans forward to brush his lips against Kuroo's.

Kenma kisses Kuroo briefly, but long enough to leave Kuroo out of breath, his hand finding its way to Kenma's hip.He tastes like vodka and fruit juice, but all Kuroo cares about is how their lips melded perfectly together for such a brief second. "How about now?" Kenma whispers as he leans back, eyes fluttering open and Kuroo can't help but think he's the most beautiful in this state.

"Y-yeah, I got what I wanted." Kuroo's voice is raspy and hoarse as if he's run out of water to drink and in many ways he has.

Kenma's lips quirks into a smile, the kind of smile that can destroy and has destroyed Kuroo before. "Good." And he leans into Kuroo's space once more, placing his head on Kuroo's shoulder as he goes back to watching whatever is on their television screen.

Kuroo places his arm around Kenma, bravery coursing through his veins from the contact of their lips. He thinks of his life, he thinks of Kenma, and he thinks his life _is_ Kenma. He thinks he wouldn't want it any other way.

 

 

This will never happen:  

 

Kenma is twenty-two and Kuroo, one year older, is lying in bed with his best friend, sheets tangled around their bodies.

"This can't happen again," Kenma mumbles, eyes trained on the sheets of the bed as he grasps them, knuckles white. Kuroo takes in the scene before him, clothes strewn all over the floor, making a roadmap to his bed. He looks at Kenma, marks noticeable on his neck and clavicle, who's making himself as small as possible as he does when he knows he's done something he's not supposed to do. And Kuroo's heart lurches in his chest, because Kenma has regrets and he, he does not.

"Yeah," Kuroo finally says, "This was a mistake."

Kenma looks at him with his too big golden eyes, "Do you think it was a mistake?" And Kuroo regrets his words as he stares at Kenma tangled in his sheets. A sight he's yearned for his entire life.

"No," he whispers at no one in particular. "But this shouldn't have happened." Because he hates seeing Kenma's eyes full of pity as he looks at Kuroo.

They stay silent, the kind of silence they once embraced, but now it constricts their throats, like snakes around the forbidden fruit of their actions.

"Maybe I didn't think it was a mistake," Kenma finally speaks as he looks down at the sheets again, "Maybe this should have happened." he says to Kuroo who is mesmerized by the fire in Kenma's golden eyes.

Kuroo's courage grows as he crawls his way toward Kenma, "Can it happen again?" and Kenma nods away a smile as he takes Kuroo's face into his hands before leaning up for a kiss, and yet another, and yet another, until their bodies are connected once more and they can't decipher where one begins and where the other ends.

Sex is messy, but in their arms they're not. They spend their day in bed, neither willing to leave it or it would break the moment. As they eat a bowl of instant noodles, they decide this could happen again and they allow it to happen as many times as they could, because the moment will last as long as the other wants it to last. Eventually, the moment becomes every day, every week, every month and every year and they stop asking if the moment can happen again.

 

 

This will never happen:

 

Kenma is twenty eight and Kuroo, one year older, watches Kenma work on his projects he brought from work.

"Let's order take-out today."

"Okay" Kenma says without looking up from his computer, he is in the middle of finishing up preliminary plans for a game he and his company are working on.  

When the delivery man arrives, Kuroo pays for dinner and tips extra just in case. He brings the food to their small dining table, where Kenma sits comfortably.

They eat quietly, Kenma absorbed in making sure his project goes as planned and Kuroo absorbed in watching Kenma. Kuroo watches as Kenma's face cycles through different facial expressions and Kuroo wants to kiss each one.

"You're staring." Kenma finally says as he brings his eyes to Kuroo's.

"Yeah," Kuroo doesn't bother hiding, he loves Kenma and will continue looking at him for as long as he can.

Kenma's cheeks are dusted with a light pink and Kuroo pats himself on the back for this accomplishment. He thinks of the box in his pocket and what he wants to ask Kenma, he thinks it's probably about time he asked.

Kenma works on his computer and doesn't notice as Kuroo moves toward him, slowly at first, until they're sitting next to each other.

"Kuro," Kenma starts, "is something wrong?"

Kuroo just brushes Kenma's hair behind his ear, "Nothing's wrong," he says, "Nothing at all."

"Then why are you—"

Kenma's eyes widen as he sees Kuroo drop to the floor, one knee on the ground. Realization hits him as Kuroo takes out a box from his pocket.

"No," he mouths.

"Kozume Kenma," Kuroo starts.

"Kuro—"

"Will you make me the happiest man alive by —"

"Kuro, please—"

"Allowing me to spend the rest of my life—"

"Tetsurou—"

"With you?"

Kenma's face is red as he pushes Kuroo and they land in a pile on the floor, Kenma straddling Kuroo as the other still holds on the ring box in his hand.

Kenma's eyes search Kuroo's, seeing if what he just proposed is true and not a lie and all he sees is Kuroo's smile, honest and true as he removes the ring from the box.

"You don't have to say yes," Kuroo finally says, sensing that Kenma's overwhelmed.

"You idiot, it's just..." Kenma begins, "It's just, I'm not a lot, and you deserve so much more."

Kuroo caresses Kenma's cheek like he's done so many other times before. He thinks of the man Kenma has become and he thinks of the man he has become because of Kenma. "I don't want more, " he tells Kenma, "I only want you."

There are tears like streams falling from Kenma's face and Kuroo wants to kiss him to make it better, and so he does. He leans up and brings Kenma down and their lips meet in a salty watery mess, but Kuroo doesn't care because he has the love of life with him and he's been with him all this time.

When they separate, Kenma nods and somehow Kuroo understands as he slips the ring on Kenma's finger. "I think I love you," Kenma whispers into Kuroo's lips and Kuroo tells him he thinks so too.

"Remember that night when we were young and we went stargazing and you put your hand on top of mine." Kenma says as he's cuddled next to Kuroo, work long forgotten.

Kuroo remembers, he remembers how he mustered all his courage to make it happen, how he had thought he had made a mistake until Kenma turned away and let him continue holding his hand.

"I thought it was strange, but then I didn't mind it."

"Why so?" Kuroo asks, his lips on Kenma's temple.

"Because it felt right, and I figured I wouldn't mind holding hands with you for the rest of my life."

Kuroo says nothing and instead shows Kenma how much he means to him.

 

 

This will never happen:

 

Kenma is pushing eighty-four and Kuroo is old. He is the first to wake that morning, going to the bathroom to start his morning routine. His joints scream in silent pain, but he splashes water on his old wrinkled face, hair finally tamed after years of trying. He leaves the bathroom and heads to the kitchen to feed their cats. He's unsure why Kenma hasn't gotten up yet, so he turns around and goes to their room once he's finished.

Kenma is lying in bed, breathing quiet and eyes closed, but as Kuroo approaches his eyes slowly open. Kuroo will always love the gold of Kenma's eyes, even if they have dulled with age.

He sits down next to Kenma. He looks smaller than usual, his hair a silver halo on their pillow. "It's morning," he tells Kenma, and Kenma just grunts an affirmative.

Kuroo leans down to kiss Kenma, and he can't help but feel their time is running out to do this, "Can you get up?" and Kenma looks at him, an apology in his eyes.

"I don't think so," Kenma finally says, "I'm tired."

Kuroo caresses Kenma's cheek, "You don't have to apologize for that." He gets back into bed soon after, rolling around to face Kenma even as his joints protest. "Guess we're not leaving the bed today."

"You have things to do." Kenma protests.

"They can wait."

They spend their day in bed, talking about old memories that resurface. Like how Kuroo became a respected neuroscientist and how Kenma had made many games. They talked about their time as volleyball players and Nekoma, how they grew up together and never let go of each other afterward.

Kenma falls asleep as Kuroo holds his hand.

Kenma passes away a year later and Kuroo leaves for home and finds an empty bed. Everything around him feels too big and too vast without Kenma's presence. Remnants of his life with him remain, like Kenma's video game consoles and his work laptop. Kuroo shows no emotion because he understands that it was Kenma's time, but just like Kenma had a time, so does Kuroo. And this brings Kuroo peace.

He dreams of a warm hand under his that night and he doesn't wake up the next day.

 

 

 

Here's what happens:

 

Kenma is fourteen and Kuroo, one year older, is unspoken words and awkward sentences strung together. They sit by their bridge watching dead stars, hands splayed on the concrete. Kuroo thinks about touching Kenma's hand and holding it in his own. He thinks of what would happen if he does and what he could save if he doesn't.

He wants and has wanted, but he lacks the courage to do. His hand recoils back into his lap and Kenma keeps his eyes to the stars, never noticing the battle Kuroo has just fought and lost.

There is a tree growing in Kuroo's heart, that which holds the forbidden fruit, but just as it has sprouted, it catches flames and breaks down bit by bit. The branches he does manage to climb are safe, daring not to climb the branches in flames, because he can't breathe and the smoke is too much. In this way, the fruit is never his and he never gets to taste how sweet it is.

The night continues until they decide to go home, Kenma slouching as he plays his games. Kuroo thinks he likes Kenma, but his friendship with Kenma is too precious to change, to lose, so he stays quiet.

"You've been thinking about something, what is it?" Kenma asks outside his door.

"Nothing," Kuroo lies because if he would unleash his thoughts, he would damage what he already has.

"Okay." Kenma says and Kuroo walks away, leaving the burning remains of the tree in his heart behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are much appreciated, thank you for taking the time to read this!! 
> 
> I'm over at [@wrenrouge](http://twitter.com/wrenrouge/) on twitter and [@wrenrouge](http://wrenrouge.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you wanna holla at me.


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